A Clean Break
by Tomigiru
Summary: Relaxing when you're living with Sherlock Holmes is near impossible. Relaxing when he's set on sharing a bathtub with you IS impossible.  Slash, Sherlock/John


Living with the great Sherlock Holmes can be...stressful, to say the least. At times it could nearly drive someone to madness. Sherlock would have his days of being grumpy and acting childlike, bored because of the lack of cases. On days like these it was necessary for John to hide his gun, most valuables in the flat, and to take some much needed time for himself. Usually this entailed running a hot bath and relaxing, trying to clear his mind of whatever craziness Sherlock could be getting up to because honestly, those were unsettling thoughts that the ex-army doctor did not want to deal with when he was this stressed out. John sunk down into the warm water, exhaling loudly. The water was soothing on his skin, and the serene setting of the bathroom was helping him relax. He had recently cleaned it of all of Sherlock's experiments because he would rather not have to worry about human body parts waiting for him when he needed to wash up. He knew he should probably be worried about the lack of noise coming from downstairs, but he refused to think about it. For all he knew, Sherlock might just be pouting, which was a surprisingly common practice for the genius. John sighed just thinking about it; the self-proclaimed sociopath could act like such a child at times. He reprimanded himself-he was relaxing, he was not supposed to be thinking about the main cause of most of his stress. But he had to face the fact that it was truly impossible for him to not think of Sherlock. The genius had become such a large part of his life that, even sequestered in the bathing room all alone, Watson thought of Holmes. He ran damp fingers through his sandy blonde hair, shaking his head a bit as if it would help clear his thoughts. He leant back against the rim of the tub, letting his head rest on the cool porcelain.

John couldn't remember precisely when he slipped into slumber. But he definitely knew what woke him up.

Mainly he knew because it was impossible to miss six feet and one inch of absolutely naked sociopath walking around the bathroom and setting things up quite noisily. John did try to interrupt the goings-on several times, but he was simply responded to with some very severe 'shhhh's. Sherlock had stolen two of the towels from the pile John had set up on the floor, and had made a sort of soft, fluffy pedestal for his laptop nearby the tub's edge. He had also taken another towel, folded it, and draped it on the side of the tub which John had been resting his feet on.  
>"Shift over, John." He commanded, pleased to see that the doctor complied nearly subconciously. Sherlock climbed into the tub, his long, gangly body taking up most of the room, thus scrunching John into the corner.<br>"Sherlock, what are you doing?" The blonde questioned, looking exasperated.  
>"Conserving water, obviously. Shift a bit more, I'm uncomfortable." John obeyed, but he honestly doubted that a man as large as Sherlock could possible find a comfortable position whilst crammed into a bathtub with another man. In the end, the genius wound up with one of his legs hanging out of the tub, dripping water all over the linoleum floor. John couldn't help put notice that the man was also typing away quickly at his laptop (how the genius did this without actually glancing at the machine, John couldn't fathom) and texting on his phone.<br>"You shouldn't have electronics in the bath with you, Sherlock."  
>"I doubt my life is in danger from this, and besides that we put ourselves in much more threatening situations while on cases." The doctor brought a hand up to rub his sinuses; he could feel a headache coming on.<br>"Okay, would you at least care to tell me what you're doing?"  
>"Lestrade has decided that he needs my help on some mundane case. I'm informing him that I am bathing with you at the moment and do not wish to waste my time going to the police station when it was obviously the ex-girlfriend's sister who killed this man." Both men were silent. Sherlock was texting too intently to notice the expression that John was shooting him.<br>"You told Lestrade that we're bathing together?" Sherlock glanced up at the doctor, expression disdainful.  
>"Of course I did, John. We are bathing together, are we not?" The doctor didn't protest that fact-he couldn't, really-but he was still annoyed.<p>

"Sherlock, put the phone away."  
>"What was that?"<br>"I said to put the bloody phone to the side. There's no need to work while you bathe."  
>"You raise a good point, John, but you know that I don't cease working." John closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. This was not going to be easy.<br>"Sherlock. Surely you can deduce why I'm in the bath?"  
>"You've obviously attempted to separate yourself from the world, due to stress."<br>"Do you know why I'm stressed, Sherlock?"  
>"Judging by the grimace on your face and your tone of voice, I would say it's me."<br>"Yes. So can you please put down the bloody phone and try to calm your amazing brain for once? Try to relax. We can relax together." John smiled kindly, hoping it would work. Sherlock's brow furrowed and his lips pursed. Obviously, they were doing things the hard way today.  
>"I don't see what relaxing will accomplish."<br>"It's good for your health." Sherlock chuckled at the doctor's feeble defense.  
>"John, you also lecture me on not eating and not sleeping, but I am still alive and you very well know that I am in perfect medical condition."<br>"If you don't relax, I can't relax, and I will be extremely stressed and I. Will. Leave." Sherlock's eyes widened slightly at the statement, before he placed his uncaring mask on once again.  
>"You wouldn't do that. You adore helping me in my line of work."<br>"Yes, but unlike you, I need breaks." The room was silent once again. Sherlock seemed to be contemplating something very important. John patiently waited for the genius to speak.  
>"I will...attempt to relax. It seems to be condusive to our working enviroment."<br>"Thank you, Sherlock." John settled down once again, resting his head against the rim of the bath. But for some reason he couldn't relax. He adjusted his position, almost jumping out of his skin when his thigh brushed Sherlock's foot. Sherlock gave him a strange look but then went back to ignoring the doctor. John shifted again, still unable to get comfortable. And for some reason, he couldn't tear his eyes from Sherlock. It was a very distracting (and some what distressing) fact that he was in a tub, naked, with the great Sherlock Holmes who was, also, naked. And as soon as the thought had been thought, it refused to go away. No, it very much wanted to stay in Watson's head and torment him-relentlessly. The great Sherlock Holmes, splayed out, naked, in front of him. And there was no denying that Sherlock was a very attractive man-almost hypnotic in his beauty. John shook his head a muttered a quiet curse...what the hell was his mind doing? This was somewhat ridiculous. He wasn't even gay, he certainly shouldn't be thinking about his flatmate like this. Then again, he also shouldn't have to deal with the position of being naked in the same tub with his very nude, very MALE flatmate. Maybe he should just give up on trying to go with what was 'normal'? No, no, he was definitely straight and he was definitely NOT going to jeopardize the relationship that he and Sherlock had just because his brain had decided at this very moment to be a tad bit bi-curious. This couldn't possibly get worse.

"Dilated pupils, elevated heartbeat, fidgety...John, if you're aroused you could have simply asked me to leave." John's cheeks flushed bright pink. Dammit, dammit, dammit. It seemed like the universe was determined to play against him today. "I'm not."  
>"What?"<br>"I'm not aroused." The doctor protested, pulling his knees to his chest.  
>"Hrmmm. I'm sad to say that your erection leads me to a different conclusion."<br>"Wh-wh-Sherlock, you can't just say things like that!" As a doctor, he knew it was impossible, but at the moment, John didn't want anything other than the earth to open up and swallow him whole so that he could get out of this situation. And, to his chagrin, his erection handn't gone away, even with the awkwardness added onto his own humiliation.  
>"Oh? And why not, John?"<br>"Because, Sherlock," the blonde insisted, cheeks still colored with embarrassment, "It's...well, it's bloody well embarrassing." John couldn't believe this. Not only had he gotten erection for Sherlock-not only his friend but a MAN-he had been caught. And it still adamantly refused to settle down. Of course, it didn't help that Sherlock was still sitting there, naked as the day he was born, sitting with his shapely legs spread, his firm chest slightly dripping, and those beautiful eyes-John decided at that moment that he severly needed a lobotomy. His thoughts should not have been taking this path...in fact, the path shouldn't even be a possibility-it shouldn't exist. His furious mental self-abuse was interrupted by a loud sigh from Sherlock.  
>"Honestly, John, do you require assistance or do you want me to leave?" John had decided, as a medical opinion, that his face couldn't possibly get redder. The sheer -concept- of Sherlock 'assisting' him with his 'problem' was...well, it was ridiculous, and humiliating, and...painfully, shamefully arousing. "Seeing as you've lost your vocal functions would you like me to make your decision for you? From the evidence I've gathered, I'm going to seriously advise that you let me assist you." Well, -that- snapped him out of it.<br>"No, no no no, Sherlock, I don't need your, er, assistance, I'm...I'm fine." Another overdramatic sigh issued itself from Sherlock's lips, this time accompanied by a condescending eye roll.  
>"Is this about your supposed heterosexuality, John? You're so simple-minded." John huffed, displeased. Even in a situation such as this, Sherlock -still- managed to get on his nerves. Unbelievable.<br>"I'm sorry, but personal identity is somewhat important to some people, Sherlock." The genius looked doubtful.  
>"And the sex of the person you are attracted to changes who you are? That sounds very close-minded to me, John."<p>

"Okay, okay, fine. Let's say I was to accept your assistance, what would that entail?"  
>"Just shut up, John," Sherlock said, manuevering so that he could pull the doctor closer. The blonde spluttered a struggled a bit, sloshing water over the sides of the tub. "My laptop, John-be careful," The sociopath berated, before continuing to tug his flatmate closer. Eventually, John was situated on Sherlock's lap, having given up on all protests and fighting; it was pointless, anyhow. "See, John? That was painfully simple; you just let your painfully low intelligence get in the way."<br>"Wha-Sherlock, how can you-Oh!" John jumped slightly, shocked when long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around his erection. "Warning would've-ah-been nice," He groused, though it was half-hearted...it's somewhat difficult to sound threatening when your genius, sociopathic work partner is giving you a reach-around. "Sherlock, I'm not really...okay with this..." JOhn squirmed unhappily, even though in truth, he was enjoying himself. He knew he shouldn't be, but the sensations that Sherlock was bringing him were fantastic, and being situated on the genius was surprisingly...comfortable.  
>"Stop worrying about trivial things like sexuality," Sherlock muttered into the doctor's ear, noting with delight the shiver that went through his friend's body, "In fact, stop thinking. It's annoying." John knew it was ridiculous, and was extremely badly-timed, but he couldn't help but chuckle at the detective's words. "Okay, Sherlock. Okay." John leant his head against the taller man's shoulder, letting a resigned sigh slip from his mouth. He might as well accept it; not only was Sherlock too stubborn to let this end now that it had started, but it actually felt nice anyhow. The doctor let his eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation of Sherlock's skilled hand sliding up and down his need. John couldn't help the small moan that escaped him when the detective's hand sped up, bringing him closer to the brink. "Ah, Sherlock, just so you know-"<br>"Shush, John." Sherlock berated him, though not harshly, as his hand sped up once again. A smirk tugged at his lips as another groan slipped from the veteran soldier. The genius could tell from the doctor's constant curling and uncurling of his toes, the flush that was traveling from his face to his neck and shoulder, and elevated heartrate and breathing that he was close to orgasm. Sherlock couldn't help but feel a bit smug-this powerful, handsome man was submitting to him of all people. John may not acknowledge it, but Sherlock knew very well that his friend was brilliant and very, very desirable. In fact, it was amazing that John didn't go out and date more...though Sherlock suppose he took up much of the doctor's time with cases and his erratic behavior...the fact that he occupied so much of John's life sent another shot of smugness through Sherlock. That wasn't all though-oh no-as if Sherlock's ego hadn't been boosted enough, the name that escaped from John in the final moment was none other than the detective's own. Hurrying to return his face back to its nuetral expression, Sherlock gently pushed John off of him, looking disinterested in the actions that had just transpired. "Well, John, I think I'm going to retire. The bath was most relaxing." The genius stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist before grabbing his laptop and phone. John was staring at him increduously, seeming unable to find words temporarily.  
>"W-wait," John said, finally finding his tongue, "Sherlock, does this mean that we're..." The blonde paused and ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. "I don't bloody know, what the hell does this mean for us?"<br>"What do you mean, John?"  
>"Sherlock, are you attracted to me?" The doctor was obviously frazzled, but the detective only smiled and shook his head as if someone had asked him to solve a third grade math equation.<br>"John, I've presented plenty of evidence...I'm sure even you can solve this one." And with that, Sherlock was gone from the bathroom.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:  
>A fanfic for a friend again.<br>Based off a picture I bought from them at an anime convention  
>I rather like how it turned out<br>Please review, I'd like to know if you liked it :)**


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